Irony
by padfoot4eva
Summary: Ginny Weasley is over Harry Potter. Everyone knows. But in her diary she confides her real feelings for her childhood crush.
1. February 14, 1997

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hogwarts, or anything that has ever been mentioned in the Harry Potter books does not belong to me. I would like to own them, and make billions of dollars every year, but the only thing in this story that is mine is my plot, if you can call it one. I am simply one of those very sad people who obsess over something that isn't real. This username is not mine either; Allie is being nice and letting me under hers because my mom dislikes the internet and anything that deals with posting. So please, don't sue me, all I have that is of any value is a cello and a computer. Thank you for your time.

February 14, 1997

Valentine's Day is such a horrible holiday. Wait, scratch that, Valentine's Day is only a horrible holiday for those of us without a significant other and so thusly have nothing to celebrate. Actually, I think Valentine's Day might just be only a horrible holiday to me, because not only do I not have a boyfriend, but the person I want to be my boyfriend has no idea that I still like him.

I have been in love with Harry potter for sixth years, five months, thirteen days five hours and twenty-three minutes. I mean, how sad is that? I have a bloody countdown of the first moment that I met the boy-who-lived, also known as Harry Potter.

Oh course, I didn't know who he was at the time. All I saw was a short, gangly young boy of about eleven with messy dark hair and startlingly green eyes. I don't know why I fell head over heels with him at that moment, but I know I did.

So, when I found out that the person I had just fallen in love with was _the_ Harry Potter, I was, to say the least, a bit shocked. And then I grew really nervous around him. You know, stick your elbow in a butter dish and then send an embarrassing Valentine's Day poem by dwarf, or whatever those creatures were. Nervous and shy and panicky, that was me. Of course, the fact that I spent my entire first year under the control of the dark lord didn't really help in many respects.

So when he saved me, I fell even more deeply in love with him. I mean, it created a bond between us. Oh course, Harry couldn't care less about any kind of bond. I think that I embarrassed him, particularly as I was considered a silly little first year with a crush by most. I think that his embarrassment came from the fact that he didn't know what to do about me, since he has never been the kind of person to think that he should be worshipped and adored, which could have easily caused what he considered to be my school girl adoration to leap to even greater heights.

My second year was not as bad, although I don't think that any year in my life shall ever come close to the horror that was five years ago. I rarely saw him, since he was always at work with something or other, trying to rid the world of all its evils, trying to single-handedly save the day, just as he has always strived to do. Hermione told me of last year of the night where he had the choice of killing Wormtail, who had caused his parents' deaths, and yet he had still not given in to temptation, and he chose the noble thing to do.

As we all grow older, we learn different skills, and such was the case with me. I learned how to hide my adoration of Harry Potter, and it seemed that everyone (but my beloved older brothers) had forgotten my silly fascination with the boy hero, or decided that it had run its course. I had just learned to hide it, however. When Ron was trying to help Harry, stuck without a date to the Yule Ball because Cho Chang had turned him down, and mentioned that he could always go with me, I realized that I couldn't do that, even if I wasn't already going to the ball with Neville. I couldn't let myself become a second choice, a consolation prize. I had to be chosen because I'm me, not because there was no one else.

I met Michael Corner at the dance, and he asked me to go out with him a few months later. I agreed, not because I had any special feelings for him, but with the hopes that it could help me get over Harry. Oh course, that was never possible. I mean, I saw him so much, considering that he is my brother's best friend, that sometimes I just wanted to scream with the frustration. It didn't help that everyone thought my crush on him was over, since I no longer blushed furiously whenever he came into my presence and I had accidentally let it "slip" to Hermione, Lavender and Pavarti that I was over him

Last year was really a horrible year. I mean, I always saw Harry either depressed about what Voldemort had done or staring at Cho, when she wasn't staring right back. The two of them made me sick after a while. I mean, seeing the boy of your dreams with another girl is never a soothing thing.

But Harry has a way of doing things to your mind, things that no one would ever suspect he was doing. The real reason Michael and I broke up wasn't really the quidditch game, although that was a leading cause. It was because he had accused me a few times of using him, or still liking Harry. Dean did the same thing while we were dating at the beginning of this year, and while I denied it to both boys, I was never any good at lying to myself.

Harry is somehow the cause of everything I do. I don't think I would have tried out for seeker last year if it hadn't been Harry's position, as though that would somehow bring him closer to me. I would never have gone to the Department of Mysteries if anyone else had been leading, no matter how much I had liked Sirius. He causes me to do things that I normally wouldn't do, even though he has no idea he is doing them.

I can see him out of the corner of my eye right now as I write here on the common room couch. He's joking with Ron and Hermione about something, and I wish I could be included. I sometimes feel jealous of my brother, being able to spend so much time with him without anyone saying a thing or thinking anything suspicious.

He's unaware of my gaze, just as he always was. Once again I am invisible Ginny, Ron's little sister. The stupid little girl with the stupid little diary who nearly got a load of people killed. The little girl who used to have an obsession with him.

He looks around for a minute, and our eyes meet. His eyes give an impression of great sorrow, and wisdom and loss from time before memory. He's staring, and I'm staring back, as though the entire world is made of us two. Suddenly he breaks the contact, and his gaze drops, looking back to Ron and Hermione

So this is the irony of Valentine's Day, the day of lovers and love. That I should feel so alone on a day of such warmth seems cruel, but life has a habit of doing things like that to me. Leaving me crying in the rain and the cold while others laugh in the warmth and sunshine.

Harry, you were always there as a pillar of strength to me when it seemed like all else would fail. You were cursed with a burden most of us could not bear, and found yourself equal, no, greater to it. You have seen so much more than the rest of us, and yet your appearance is still as innocent as a child's. You will always be watching over us, making sure that none get left behind, from the oldest to the youngest, from the strongest to the weakest. You do not curse the world for your problems, but instead try to prove that where it once appeared dark, there is light. That where once everything appeared hopeless, hope was still there, hidden inside us all. You are the one on who all hopes have been placed, the one who knows that the world is on his shoulders, and yet is not broken. The one who will never break, never fall prey to the doubts that are mankind's downfall.

Goodnight my hero, my savior, my love.

Ginny Weasley 

* * *

This was my first diary entry, and the one that I always liked the most. I know Ginny sounds a little out of character. Sorry, but we really don't have much to go on, now do we?

I've tried to keep everything important to events that actually happened, or events that JK hinted at, i.e. Dean and Ginny going out.

Please review! I need in proof that people read my stuff, and that I'm not just putting it up to be ignored by the vast majority. It would only take a moment of your time, and I really think it's been scientifically proven that review help increase writing speed. Also, I need to now what pairings and points of view people want. I usually go with what the public wants. Unless what the public wants is idiotic, in which case… never mind, I don't want to insult would be reviewers.

Thanks a bunch ya'll!

Sally


	2. August 20, 1997

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hogwarts, or anything that has ever been mentioned in the Harry Potter books does not belong to me. I would like to own them, and make billions of dollars every year, but the only thing in this story that is mine is my plot, if you can call it one. I am simply one of those very sad people who obsess over something that isn't real. So please, don't sue me, all I have that is of any value is a cello and a computer. Thank you for your time.

* * *

August 20, 1997

Oh, I cannot believe my stupidity at times. Sometimes I wish I had a different life. One where I could be free from all the restraints binding me. Where I could be free of the shadows of my brothers that hide me from the outside world. Where I could be free from unrequited love.

But there is no place where that can happen. I realize this now. Even five years after the Chamber, people still look at me as though I'm cursed. They cannot understand that I'm not that person anymore. I do not want their pity. I do not need their pity. I am my own self. But they don't care.

The world seems to forget about me, by and by. There are six Weasleys before me. By the time people get to me, they've already made up their minds about my family. They shove me in a category of their own choosing, without ever bothering to get to know me. All except one. Harry.

I had no idea that my feelings for him could escalate, but they did over this past summer. Ron and Hermione finally got their act together, leaving Harry alone. I'm not sure if it was boredom or genuine interest that brought him to my side, but he came. I was at first naturally skeptical of his reasons for hanging out with me, but I realized that Harry is incapable of using someone like that. His heart is too pure.

So we talked. We talked of random things, of the evilness of Potions classes to how old Dumbledore really is. We talked of tragic things, such as what is going on with Voldemort. Harry was quite impressed that I could say the name, actually. I've met him, however. He was my former idol, and my false friend. I am no longer afraid of him, however.

But Harry and I also talked of troubling things of the past. We spoke of Sirius. I have always tried to tell Harry that he isn't at fault for what happened, but he never really listens. It's another of his endearing vices, how he always accepts the blame. But he should let someone else share the load, before it cripples him and his heart.

Tonight, however, we spoke of something that happened long ago. While we sat playing a game of chess, he told me of when he looked inside Snape's memories, and saw what his father had done. His father had been cold and cruel. Harry actually cried as he told me this. He said that he didn't want to be that way, but he thought he must be becoming so. People always compared him to his father, so that must mean he was as arrogant and haughty as his father had been.

And that was when I opened my big mouth. I told him that he wasn't that way at all. I told him that if he was that way, I wouldn't be in love with him. Then I realized what I had said.

Harry dropped the pawn he was about to move. It broke into thousands of little pieces, just like my heart was doing at the moment. I waited for Harry to say something, anything. I waited for him to laugh it off, or to tell me he felt the same way. I know the last one is just a fantasy of mine, but I wanted some sort of reaction.

Harry didn't say anything, however. He just stared at me, in horror or whatnot, I do not know. I gasped, and ran up to my room, where I am writing this now.

Oh, why does it have to be me? Why does it have to be now? I could settle for him not loving me, as long as I could be his friend. He would still be mine, in a way. But now that can never happen.

So now I sit and wait in my room, crying softly for what I have lost, for what I never could have had in the first place. I used to think of Harry as a hero, but now, to me, he's not just that. He's Harry. But just as I have learned to appreciate himself for who he is, I lost him.

This must be one of life's favorite jokes to play on me. I wish for something, I get it in part, and then I lose it.

I wished for a friend. I got a diary who wrote back. I got Tom Riddle. And he was my friend. Until he used me and destroyed me.

I wished for someone to love me. I got Michael and Dean. But they were not what I wanted, and they could not be what I wished they could. They could not be Harry.

And then I got Harry. He was my friend. Until I told him what I had sworn would never each the light of day, and I lost yet another.

I was so _stupid_! I thought that perhaps he saw me as myself, but obviously I was just "Ron's Little Sister," once again, incapable of having any feelingsand unworthy of receiving any in return.

Was I meant to be alone and unloved all my days? It's times like now when I believe that that idea could be true. I'm life's idea of a joke. I'm pathetic and worthless, known only for being related to my brothers.

I wish life could be different. But that would be too kind, now wouldn't it?

After all, what does not kill us makes us stronger. But, on the other hand, this unceasing cloud of inadequacy and loneliness that keeps pushing down on me might just kill me ormy spirit. And then, strength doesn't matter, does it?

Well, perhaps everything will be better in the morning.

Ginny

* * *

Ack! That's so depressing. And no, Ginny is not suicidal or anything.

Now, wouldn't Harry's point of view on this incident be interesting. Ask, and ye shall receive.

I wasn't ever planning on writing a second chapter, but my muse yelled at me, and I've learned not to argue with my muse.

Now, please go review. It gives me the feedback I need to write more, and it gives me a sense of purpose in the world. I accept all kinds of reviews, but I dislike pointless flames enough that I will flame you back, probably many times worse. I like getting both anonymous and signed reviews, but if your going to flame, please, don't do it anonymously. That makes whoever does it seem like a coward. Also, there is a difference between constructive criticism and flames. I know that my story will have errors, as I am (gasp) only human, and I appreciate people telling me this. But I really prefer it if you tell it nicely, rather than yelling at me about it. Thanks.

Now, to answer my reviewers from the last chapter-

**JJ- Yes, there is finally more.**

**--- - I wasn't going to, but inspiration hit. There might be more soon.**

**xsweetxheartx- They do. And thank you for your compliments.**

**QueenofDrama****- Thank you.**

**The Forest Ranger- Aww, I feel loved now.**

**MPPSexxySiriusJamesRemus- Thanks**

**punkbanana13- Thanks.**

**Charming Seductress- Well, Harry found out. What happens next none can say.**

**Ms. Realista- Yes, it is on SIYEs. Thanks for your critics. I don't know if they would, but I'm close to that age, and we can be pretty clichéd and hopelessly romantic at times. Also, Gin-Gin isn't a normal girl, now is she. Harry did save her life, after all.**

**Egypts- I'd reckon so.**

Sayonara,

Sally


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